A Champion
by Crave Kashmir
Summary: When Hermione's father is mugged and nearly killed in London, he finds an unlikely champion coming to his rescue - a dog, massive, mangy and half-starved. What is the girl supposed to do with a pet she never wanted? And why is it so fond of Harry?
1. Chapter 1: Even Heroes Can Bleed

A Champion  
Chapter 1: Even Heroes Can Bleed

The front door of Number 106, Banbury Road flew open, colliding with the doorstop with a solid 'bang' and startling the two anxious Grangers already inside the house. Phillip Granger was not normally one to throw the door wide in such a destructive and careless manner, but he had big news.

"Philip? Is that you? Where have you been?" his wife called, racing into the hallway from the kitchen, concern already etching deep lines into her face. They only grew deeper when she saw him. "My god, what happened to you?"

"I was mugged!" Philip announced with a broad, toothy grin. As bruised and abraded as his face was, the very act of smiling had to hurt, but he hardly seemed to notice at all, not even when blood dripped off his brow ridge onto his cheek.

"Mugged?" Martha parroted, horrified.

"Well, it was an attempted mugging."

"Then why are you smiling?" his daughter asked, fear for his sanity clear in her voice and chocolate eyes. She had her mother's eyes, especially when she was concerned.

Philip held up a hand and ran back to the car, taking out the precious cargo he had brought back with him from his apparently disastrous trip to London. He eased the beast down onto the gravel drive and coaxed it along beside him. The animal limped after him, whimpering in pain. Hermione looked closer at the thing and finally realised it was a dog, skin and bones but still massive. Its black fur was matted with mud, but even if it had been clean, the poor thing would still have looked half-dead.

"What is that?" asked Martha, aghast.

"My champion!" Philip declared, urging the dog across the threshold and into the sitting-room. "Hermione, bring me some bedding from the linen cupboard."

"That thing is not staying here!" the woman cried. "Look at it! It's bleeding all over my rug!"

"He saved my life. That is an injury he got in the line of duty, isn't that right, Champion?" the man cooed and scratched the dog's head gently. Champion could only whine in reply. Philip turned back to his wife. "I'd be bleeding to death in some dank alley in London if it wasn't for this dog. He stays, Martha."

The woman scowled and crossed her arms, but said nothing more on the subject. She knew better than anyone just how stubborn her husband was. Once he made up his mind, there was virtually nothing that could change it. If he was set on keeping the mutt, then keep it he would. "I'll go call the vet," she sighed. "I hope he makes house calls."

"He will for my champion," Philip beamed, turning back to the dog and petting its filthy fur. "Where is that girl? You need some bedding in front of the fire, don't you? Yes, you do."

"Are you quite sure you don't have a concussion, dad?" Hermione asked. She set the pile of blankets down where her father pointed and stood well back as the dog hobbled over and lay down slowly, whimpering and whining as it tried to find a position that didn't hurt. "What happened to it?"

"Bastards kicked him," Philip snarled. "Kicked my champion! Can you believe that?"

"Language, Philip!" Martha called from the hallway.

"Pretend I didn't say that word," he muttered to his daughter.

"No, I quite agree," Hermione frowned, daring to step close enough to pet the dog's head. "Anyone who would kick a dog is a bastard."

"Hermione!" Martha shouted. "Language!"

"Sorry, mum!"

The woman marched in from the hallway, hands on her hips and frown set firmly on her face. "The vet will be here after dinner… if it lives that long."

"_He_," Philip corrected. "He will be just fine. He's made of stronger stuff than that, aren't you, boy?" He grinned down at the dog before leaving to fetch his saviour some water. "I'll need to run to the market to buy some steaks for him."

"Whatever for?" his wife demanded. "It's a dog. It eats dog food."

"Nothing but the best for my champion!" Philip declared loudly. "Steaks and real bones straight from the butcher's block."

"I think he was knocked on the head," Hermione muttered and her mother nodded her agreement. "Dad, have you considered what's going to happen when you go off to Spain for your conference? You're going to be gone for the better part of a month, and he doesn't look as if he could hold up in a kennel."

Her father stopped and looked at her, embarrassment taking over his bruised face. Clearly, he had forgotten all about the two-week dental conference that he and his wife planned to extend into a well-deserved holiday. "Well, you can take him with you to school."

"No, dogs aren't on the list of permitted pets," she said.

"Nonsense!" he insisted. "You're the smartest girl there; highest grades ever recorded. They'll happily grant you permission if you ask. Go write to that Headmaster."

"I will not."

"Plus all the good you and those friends of yours have done, saving the school and fighting the good fight," he added conspiratorially. "I think they owe you a favour."

"Dad—"

"He's a hero, Hermione," Philip said, sternly. "Heroes need a place to live, to be free."

"Being locked inside the girls' dorms is not freedom," Hermione frowned but relented in the face of her father's arguments. "I'll ask, but they won't agree. If they give me special permission, then everyone else will start asking for non-sanctioned pets, too. That is not a slope they will go down, I'm certain."

He smiled broadly. "That's my girl."

Hermione shook her head, looking down at the dog and finding it odd that he was looking back at her, his eyes huge and sorrowful as if begging her not to take him to school with her. She had not noticed the way the dog had followed their conversation, his eyes darting from Philip to Hermione as they spoke, almost as if he understood that the outcome would affect him. Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she left the room. He was just a dog.

Dinner was rather awkward, with Philip leaving every few minutes to make sure Champion was eating his steak while Martha grew so annoyed she broke her fork when she stabbed angrily at her food. Hermione tried to be supportive; the dog had saved her father's life, after all. It seemed to her, however, that the dog was only eating to make him happy. If left to his own devices, she suspected Champion would rather just go to sleep.

"Leave him be, dad," she chided. "He's had a hard day." Preceded by several hard years, she added silently as she took in just how thin the dog was. She took the steak away and gave him a soft pat on the head. "Go to sleep, Champion. The vet won't be here for another hour."

The dog complied, closing his eyes.

"Well, how about that," Philip murmured. "Genius with animals as well as books, that's my girl."

"It doesn't take a genius to guess that he's broken and tired, dad," sighed the girl. "Nor does it take one to know that if you don't sit through the rest of dinner, Champion won't be the only one sleeping in the sitting-room tonight."

"Good call."

oOo

Champion limped along beside Hermione as she walked with her parents through London. It would have been slow going even without the dog's bruised hip and broken ribs. Martha jumped at every movement and noise, terrified they were going to be attacked as Philip had been just weeks earlier; the woman had never liked London to begin with, her husband's mugging only gave her further reason to distrust the metropolis.

"You have enough for your stay?" Philip asked as they paused again while Martha recuperated from the shock of a bicycle messenger pedalled too close to them.

"More than enough, dad," she assured him. "I can buy all my books for the next two years with the extra money you gave me."

"Well, I don't know how expensive that place is," he justified his doting. "Do they like pets?"

"As well as any other inn, I suppose," she shrugged. "And I'll only be there one night before going to Ron's house."

"Ah, yes, the ginger."

"Dad!" she chided, before turning her eyes to the dog. "Champion, stop that!"

The black dog barked and strained against his lead and harness. His injuries made it impossible for him to escape, but that did not stop his attempting it. He had not taken too kindly to having the nylon straps wrapped around him or to the news that he was going to be shipped off to school with Hermione. He barked loudly and repeatedly despite the steak and bones Philip attempted to appease him with. His attempts to escape the house in the night were foiled by Martha's late-night chocolate cravings and Phillip's determination to see to the health and happiness of his saviour; the man apparently didn't realise that his saviour would have been far happier to leave their company entirely.

"Come along, Champion," Hermione said, tugging on the lead to keep the dog in line. Champion whined and tried chewing through his harness. "We're nearly there."

"Why can I never find it?" Philip complained, eyeing the row of storefronts with a scowl. "I _know_ it's here."

"It's magic, dad," sighed his daughter, failing to notice that her dog had stopped straining against the lead as she spoke. "How else would they keep the riff raff out?"

"That implies that I'm riff raff, young lady," he sniffed.

She just smiled. "There it is," she pointed and all but ran up to the dingy entrance to The Leaky Cauldron. "Are you coming in?"

Her parents shook their heads. "We've got to get clear across the Channel by tonight. No time to get pulled into a discussion about plugs and rubber ducks," Philip sighed. He always enjoyed feeling like a wealth of foreign information.

"Do take care," Martha said, hugging her daughter tight and kissing her cheek. "Write to us."

"Yes, let us know how Champion takes to that school of yours."

"He'll take to it just fine," Hermione smiled. "Won't you, Champion?"

The dog barked happily and wagged his tail as best he could. It was the most excited they had seen him, and Philip took it as the sign of a great school year to come. Hermione could only stare in confusion at the dog, which had been trying every method of escape possible until they had reached the wizarding inn.

"If I had to guess," she said cautiously, "I would say you actually know where you're going, Champion."

He barked his reply and tugged at his lead, trying to enter the inn.

She let him pull them both through the door. He waited patiently by her feet until she had gotten her room key, barked and whine up the stairs and then again down them, wagging his tail happily as she lead him through the brick archway into Diagon Alley. He pulled at his lead, but Hermione refused to let him go and held fast to him as she walked to the Magical Menagerie.

"May I help you?" the saleswoman inquired her voice slightly bored as if she said the same thing by rote, but the moment her eyes fell on the dog her entire posture changed. She knelt beside the animal and petted his head and neck, her hands working their way down his back until the dog flinched and whined. "Oh, that will never do. Wait here, please."

Surprisingly, Champion did not take advantage of Hermione's distraction to run free, or rather to limp quickly away. He waited as the saleswoman collected the potions and salves Hermione needed, though he did growl in an unfriendly tone at the flat-faces, fluffy cat that came by to sniff at him.

"Oh, look at that cat," Hermione cooed and gave it a pet, which only made Champion growl more. "If only I didn't already have a pet for school…" She sighed and set the cat back down. It swished its tail arrogantly in Champion's face and strut away. The dog gave a small, irritated bark and glared at the cat until it disappeared around a display. His annoyance was interrupted when the saleswoman dropped down beside him and offered him a 'treat'.

* * *

A/N: This piece has been sitting on my laptop for several months, unfinished and plotless. Now that I have a dog of my very own, I felt like working on it a bit more. This will likely be a slow and on-going story that I update whenever I feel like it. You have been given fair warning.


	2. Chapter 2: Grins & Growls

A Champion  
Chapter 2: Grins & Growls

Hermione could not even begin to explain the change to her dog's attitude. The change to his health, yes; that was easily explained by the power of magic, but she knew of nothing that could have so abruptly ended his desire to escape her company.

From the moment she pointed out the dingy doorway of the Leaky Cauldron, he had become the most well-behaved animal she had ever encountered. He no longer pulled at his lead, chewed at his harness or scratched incessantly at the door trying to escape. It was as if he knew where she would eventually be taking him and was actually happy about it, when just the other day any mention of Hermione's school made him whine and bark.

As she settled down in her bed at the Leaky Cauldron, her new Transfiguration textbook on her knees and Champion curled by her feet, she asked, "Are you excited about Hogwarts?"

He offered a short bark, one he always gave as an affirmative.

Again she shook her head at her own foolishness. A dog was a dog and could not understand people. He was only responding to her tone, not her words. She turned back to her book and read, flipping the pages eagerly as she absorbed all the new magic she would be studying in a few weeks' time. It took Champion growling to remind her of the hour.

"Right, I have to get up early to meet Ron and Ginny tomorrow," she said and started to close her book. "Oh, it won't matter if I read just one more chap—"

The dog growled disapprovingly as if saying 'You said that three chapters ago', which is precisely what she had said.

"Fine," she grumbled and threw herself down on the pillow, annoyed at being ordered about by a dog she was supposedly the boss of. "But just so you know, I do not appreciate your tone, Champion."

He whined in reply and crept up the bed to lay his head on her stomach, eyes huge and irresistible.

"I forgive you," she yawned and scratched behind his ear, setting his tail wagging.

oOo

Hermione woke with a start.

The room was black as pitch; the logs in the fireplace had magically extinguished as she fell into sleep. The girl strained her ears to find the source of her alertness. Something had woken her, a noise, familiar but wrong. A loud rush of water through antique pipes and porcelain, a toilet flushing.

Gripping her wand, she narrowed her eyes at the darkness. Nothing moved. Not even Champion. He was not on the bed with her, though she could still feel the warmth on the duvet from where he had been lying moments ago. Perhaps he had jumped from the bed; the mattress would surely have shifted with the removal of such a massive beast. It could easily have woken her, but that did not explain the sound of a toilet.

"Champion?" she called quietly.

A moment passed when she heard nothing, her anxiety growing to fever pitch. From the darkness she made out the figure of her dog, trotting from behind the barely open door to the washroom and leaping back up onto the bed.

"Don't scare me like that," she grumbled and fell back against her pillow. "I thought there was an intruder." Champion whimpered an apology, and she pet his head. Worries gone, she fell back into sleep, barely noting that her dog smelled oddly of hand soap.

oOo

"What is that thing?" Ron all but shrieked.

"A dog, obviously," Hermione said, eyeing the boy with sympathy.

"Is that what they told you? It looks more like a Grim to me," he shivered and took another step farther from Champion who was staring, unblinking at the boy, his open mouth looking rather like a satisfied grin. The intense stare and visible teeth, coupled with his enormous size, made him look rather frightening even to Hermione who knew the dog was harmless.

She shook her head. "Don't be so childish, Ron."

"Oh, he's beautiful!" Ginny cooed and stroked the dog's head. Oddly, Champion paid the girl no mind. Normally, he let his tongue loll as he luxuriated in the attention of admirers, but he kept his eyes fixed on the girl's brother. "What sort of dog is he?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "Even the vet was stumped, thought he might be some mix of Mastiff and Belgian Shepherd, but he's nothing anyone has ever seen before. You're quite special, aren't you, Champion?"

The dog offered his short, affirmative bark while watching Ron.

"Just keep him away from me," the boy said nervously.

"Champion wouldn't hurt a fly," Hermione insisted, though Champion chose that moment to growl rather menacingly and strain against his lead. "When do we leave for the Burrow?"

"Change of plans," Ginny said. "We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight, so we can all head out on time for a change." The girl smiled.

"Are you…" Hermione began, unsure how to approach the subject of the girl's mental state.

"I'm fine, really," Ginny assured her. "Not worried about being possessed again. I'm not even afraid of books, unlike some people." She looked pointedly at her brother and sniggered.

"Oi!" Ron cried. "I've every right be suspicious after a book nearly killed you. Just ask Harry!" He raised his voice to a shout to call the boy closer. "HARRY!"

As the boy drew closer, Champion let loose with a series of plaintive whines and excited barks. He pulled against his bonds; too strong for the girl, he broke free and raced down the cobbled street. "Champion! Come back!" Hermione cried, terrified of what the beast might do if he really did turn out to be the vicious creature Ron seemed to think he was. Only Hagrid could have held up to his size, though the poor things was still too thin. Relief washed over her as the dog started to run circles around the bespectacled boy, stopping only to bark and change directions.

"Hermione, what is this?" Harry asked, nervousness and laughter fighting for dominance in his voice.

"Champion, my dog," she said. "I think he likes you."

"Blimey he's huge," Ron muttered as the dog stood on his hind legs to put his paws on Harry's shoulders and lick his cheek. "He's taller than you!"

"Good boy," Harry said, giving the dog a pat on the head. "Could you get down now?" The dog complied immediately, sitting down and smiling up at the boy, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as he panted excitedly. "Wait, how can you even have a dog at school?"

"I got special permission," Hermione said, a little embarrassed. "After the last two years, Dumbledore thought I deserved it."

"Well, you were petrified for half the school year," Ron reasoned. "Think I could get special privileges since my sister was possessed on school grounds"

Ginny punched him in the arm. "Don't be a git, Ron," she ordered but ducked her head, blushing, and ran away.

"Why is she still so weird around me?" Harry asked and scratched absently at the dog's head. Champion's smile had fallen off his face somewhere in the midst of their conversation, though his huge pale eyes stayed on Harry.

Hermione's own knowing smile fell as she thought about the conversation she and Ron had earlier. Her voice heavy with concern, she asked, "Harry, did you _really_ blow up your aunt?"

"I didn't mean to," he said. "I just—lost control."

She tutted and fretted and worried about what might have happened if he had not been The Boy Who Lived as they walked together through Diagon Alley toward Magical Menagerie, where the saleswoman took extra joy in greeting Hermione and her dog.

"And how is our patient today?" she asked, pulling Champion's face closer to place a kiss on his head. "All healed, I would say."

"Yes, thank you. He's much better."

"Is there anything else you need?"

"Er, it's my rat, actually," he said, pulling Scabbers from an inside pocket of his jacket. "I don't think Egypt agreed with him." The rat was considerably shabbier than normal and far skinnier than the last time Hermione had seen hm. Great patches of fur were missing as if he had pulled them out like an anxiety-ridden man pulling at his scalp.

Champion growled and pulled against his harness at the sight of the rodent.

"Champion, no!" Hermione cried and pulled him away as Scabbers squeaked and squirmed in Ron's hands, going so far as to bite the boy.

"Ow! Will you take that bloody mutt away!" he ordered and kicked at the dog. "He's worrying Scabbers."

"He's just playing." She tugged hard at the lead and managed to pull her dog through the door and out into the street. Champion watched Ron and Harry through the window of the shop, a smile on his face and a growl so low it sounded like a purr rolling from his mouth. She didn't think she had ever seen a dog look quite so satisfied or a rat look so frightened.

"Keep that thing away from Scabbers," Ron warned. "He needs rest and relaxation, the woman said, not to be eaten by a bloody Grim."

Hermione just shook her head. "Champion has steaks for every meal; why would he want to eat that mangy old shoe brush?"

"Steaks?" Harry asked.

"Dad's orders," she shrugged as she followed him into the Leaky Cauldron. Mr Weasley looked up from his copy of the Daily Prophet and waved them over. Hermione noted that Sirius Black's photograph still dominated the cover and worried about what it meant that he had not yet been captured. Apparently, she was not alone in this.

"They still haven't caught him, then?" Harry asked.

"No," Mr Weasley said, his face grave and voice unnaturally grim. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."

"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" asked Ron.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," his father said. "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back." At the mention of Azkaban, Champion whimpered and curled around Hermione's leg, drawing the man's attention away from his promise. "Oh, hello, boy." He gave the dog a pat. "Ah, Molly's back."

The woman came and with her any hope of further discussion on the escaped Sirius Black. Hermione had been trying to get the man to talk since that morning, but he was always in the company of his wife or children and could not speak freely. She was dying to know more about how Black had escaped and why such a hunt was being conducted for him; his picture had even appeared on the Muggle news. That alone was enough to tell her just how dangerous Sirius Black was considered and make her very happy to have a champion to guard her while she was away from home.

* * *

A/N: Another fair warning, apparently my old self-imposed rule of 2K words per chapter will not hold to this story. No worries, I'll not be posting any chapters of only two or three paragraphs, but some, like this one, might be only 1700 words or so. Sorry. Nature of this particular beast.


	3. Chapter 3: Fearful

A Champion  
Chapter 3: Fearful

Hermione had just finished arranging her trunk when a knock came at the door. She opened it and nearly laughed as she watched Harry struggling with Champion. Despite the mutt's obvious affection for the boy, he was not at all pleased to have Harry forcing him back to her room

"You're going to have to keep an eye on him," Harry said. "I found him sitting outside Ron's room."

She waved an admonishing finger at the dog. "Bad boy, leave poor Scabbers alone."

Champion gave a gruff bark and dropped down before the fire looking thoroughly disgruntled. The girl shook her head at the seemingly human emotions the dog presented before turning to Harry, who looked just as put out as the dog.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

The boy's brow knit together even further. "I have to tell you something," he said and closed her door. "When I was downstairs looking for Ron's rat tonic, I overheard Mr and Mrs Weasley arguing about me… and Sirius Black."

"What?" she said, sitting down on the bed.

"Sirius Black… he wants to kill me. That's why he broke out of prison."

A low, disapproving growl came from Champion and Harry sat down beside him, stroking the dog's fur absently as he relayed the conversation he had accidentally overheard.

"Harry," Hermione said, her voice strong despite her anxiousness, "you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Dumbledore would never let Sirius Black anywhere near you."

"We thought the same thing about Voldemort and he's gotten to me twice inside castle grounds," the boy countered.

She clicked her tongue, "That was before we knew he was after you again, and last year doesn't count. That was Tom Riddle, not Voldemort."

He leaned back against the massive dog, "I suppose."

"Mr Weasley is right, though," she said slowly. "You do have a tendency to end up in places you don't belong. Maybe just this once you should be cautious. We don't know how dangerous this man is." He nodded but said nothing more on the subject, laying against Champion in silence for close to an hour before leaving for his own room.

oOo

The wet tongue ran up her cheek, rousing her quickly into consciousness.

"Oh, gross," she groaned. "Do you have to keep doing that, Champion?"

The dog panted his reply, smile on his face.

"Yes, I suppose you do," she grumbled and scratched his head, pulling him closed to place a kiss on his forehead. She brought him closer still and sniffed his fur. "Have you been chewing on my soap, Champion?"

She hurried to the washroom to inspect the bar of soap she had left on the edge of the bathtub, worried about what such a thing would do to the poor animal's digestion. The bar was still there, not a tooth or claw mark anywhere on it. She frowned, completely lost as to how her dog could smell like her soap if he had not touched it. Looking at him again, the girl saw that he was noticeably cleaner than he had been before she went to bed, his fur glossy and devoid of tangles. It was as if he had been groomed while she slept. As a child she had read stories of elves that would steal into shops and make shoes in the dead of night; knowing magic and witches to be real, she wondered if such things might be based on reality, and if there were shoe-making elves then perhaps there were also elves that would clean pets.

"You're a rather strange dog," she commented.

Champion barked.

"None of your backtalk," she said and pushed the dog from the washroom so she could bathe.

Clean, dressed, trunk packed and dog in tow, Hermione descended the stairs to wait for the Wealseys in the parlour of the Leaky Cauldron. Tom, the barman, provided her with a full English breakfast and Champion with a steak. The dog seemed to sigh before starting on his meal, as if he were sick of eating the same thing three times a day. She couldn't blame him if that were true.

The Weasleys came down all at once, a hurricane of red hair and noise, with Harry lost in the middle. Champion barked when he saw the boy and ran through the storm to greet him.

"Good boy," Harry said and patted the dog's head.

They ate in a hurry and piled into the cars provided by the Ministry, Harry growing slightly sullen as he climbed in. Hermione understood why. The lack of punishment for blowing up his aunt and the spacious cars were all to do with Sirius Black, keeping the boy guarded and safe and providing further proof of just how dangerous everyone thought the man. It was enough to worry anyone, Harry included. Even with Champion's head on his knee, Harry was frowning.

As the Ministry drivers moved efficiently gathering trolleys and unloading the trunks, Hermione took Champion for a short walk. Once on the train, she knew there would be nowhere for him to do his business. As they walked, Hermione realised that since his injuries had been healed she had never had to clean up after him, not a single accident on the carpet or present left in any of her shoes. She knew the horror stories of untrained dogs, but she had experienced none of them. After a pause, she also realised that she had never even seen Champion mark anything; the instinct of an unfixed male dogs should have had him lifting his leg at anything that sat still long enough, humans included. As with any of their other walks, Champion strolled happily along beside her, taking in the scenery and sniffing the occasional bit of landscaping as if to enjoy the scent of the flowers.

"You are a very strange dog," she muttered and hurried to get through the barrier to Platform 9¾ before the train left without them.

She found her friends and moved with them down the corridor, searching for an empty compartment but finding none.

The closest they could find was a compartment with a single, adult passenger sleeping in the corner, blanketed with a shabby robe. As they entered cautiously, Champion whimpered and pulled against his harness, desperately backing away from the man.

"What is it, Champion?" she asked, studying the sleeping passenger as well as she could with a massive dog fighting against her. The man looked exhausted and ill; given the amount of grey in his hair at such a young age, she assumed he had some chronic illness. His case held his name, Professor R. J. Lupin. Their new Defence teacher. She saw no reason for Champion to be afraid of the man. To date, he had shown no fear of anything, Muggle or magical, yet he continued to back away from this slumbering man.

"Stop that!" she ordered as loudly as she dared, but Champion did not obey. He broke free of her hold and ran from the compartment, down the corridor and vanished through the door to the next car, taking refuge somewhere far from Professor R. J. Lupin.

"He's a very odd dog, isn't he?" Harry said.

"I'd better go find him," she said.

"Where can he go on a train?" Ron asked with an indifferent shrug. "If we're lucky, he'll pee on Malfoy."

Harry snorted and Hermione scowled. If her dog misbehaved, it would be her getting into trouble, not him.

"So what's the big news," Ron asked Harry as he threw himself down by the window.

Harry shared the information he had overheard the previous night and the two began to fret and speculate while Hermione sat in silent contemplation of the man beside her. Whatever conclusion she might have drawn about him was interrupted by the door sliding open and Champion sneaking in with his tail tucked between his leg, his ears flat against his head and his eyes enormous and fearful. He whimpered quietly as he hid beneath her seat, protected from sight by her legs.

"What is it, Champion?"

"Are we nearly there?" Ron asked, staring up at the lantern which had just begun to glow in the darkening compartment. He glanced out the black window. "I hope so. I'm starving."

Hermione checked her watch. "It's much too early."

"But we're stopping," he said, and she, too, felt the deceleration of the train.

Champion whimpered again as Harry got up to peer out into the corridor. As he stood in the doorway, the lanterns extinguished leaving them all in total darkness. "What was that?"

"Just Champion," Hermione said. "Shh, it's alright."

"I know it's alright," Ron said.

"I was talking to the dog, Ronald."

"Oh," he said, embarrassed. "Wait, I think I see something moving out there. I think someone is coming aboard."

"Do you know what's going on?"

"Hullo, Neville."

"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea. Come in and sit down."

"Ouch!"

"Sorry."

"Maybe we should check with the driver," Hermione suggested and stood, but found she could not move. Champion had her pant-leg firmly in his mouth and refused to let her leave. "It's alright, Champion."

"Who's that?"

"Ginny?"

"Ron?"

"Yeah, what are you doing?"

"I was looking for you."

"Well, sit down."

"Not here!" Harry protested in the darkness. "_I'm_ here!"

"Quiet!" an unfamiliar and hoarse voice ordered. It was Lupin, he had finally woken up. The darkness vanished with a flash and the man towered over them, illuminated by a handful of flames. He looked just as tired as he had while sleeping, though his eyes were alive and alert.

Behind the cover of her legs, Champion shifted nervously but made no noise.

"Stay where you are," Lupin said as he moved to the door.

It opened before he reached it. Hermione thought for a moment that it might have been his doing, but even as she thought it the man took a step back and raised his wand. In the shimmering light of the magic fire, Hermione could see the figure in the doorway, see the hood hiding its face, the cloak covering its body and, for just a moment, the desiccated hand on the handle of the door. The thing in the doorway took in a deep breath and the room grew cold. Hermione shivered as her brain filled with the saddest and most painful moments of her life. She almost didn't see Harry's eyes roll back in his head, but she saw when he fell.

"Harry!" she cried and dropped down next to him, shaking his shoulders and slapping his face. "Harry, are you alright?"

Lupin, tired and ill as he appeared, forced the horrid, cloaked creature from their compartment before turning back to them. He smiled, making him look considerably younger and more pleasant than he had seconds before. His smile only grew when he looked down at Harry.

The boy groaned. "What?"

"You okay, mate?" Ron asked.

"What happened? What was that thing?" Harry asked, rubbing his head where it had collided with the floor. "Who screamed?"

"Nobody was screaming," he replied slowly, his voice thick with concern.

She and Ron helped him back to a seat, where he continued to rub his head. "But I heard—"

They all jumped at the unexpectedly loud snap interrupted him. The raggedy professor was breaking chunks from a large bar of chocolate and handing them out. "Here," he said, his voice still hoarse but far more pleasant than it sounded in the dark. "Eat it. It'll help."

Hermione felt warmth spread through her as she ate the chocolate, but she could not shake the fear that lingered from encountering what Lupin told them was a dementor of Azkaban. As she felt the poor animal quaking behind her legs, she understood his terror and wondered why Dumbledore would have agreed to allow such creatures anywhere near the school. Once again, she knew it spoke to the danger posed by the escaped madman.

* * *

A/N: I have to admit that I am really quite shocked at the responses I'm getting to this story. I thought it just a silly bit of fun. Show's what I know, don't it?

I apologize for the Rowling rewrites. I try to stick as close to canon as possible and, since I'm including scenes from the book, it means I have to use stuff you've already read a bajillion times over. There shouldn't be too many more chapters like this one, with dialogue stolen directly from the book, though. Maybe one or two, but that's all. Promise.


	4. Chapter 4: Caged

A Champion  
Chapter 4: Caged

Champion lay on his back before the fire in the Gryffindor common room, his tongue hanging to the side, panting happily as a steady stream of students came to rub his belly and tell him how beautiful he was. Hermione sat back, laughing at his gluttony for attention, but doing nothing to stop them. They would get bored soon enough and he would simply become another pet hanging around the common room, as pedestrian as any of the toads or cats. Ron sat beside her, jealously clinging to his squirming rat.

"I can make a cage for him if you like," she offered when Ron yelped. "He's just going to keep biting you if you squeeze him like that."

Ron grumbled and sucked on his finger. "It's fine. He's just scared of your bloody dog." It took three more bites before he finally agreed to her suggestion.

Satisfied smile on her face, Hermione conjured a cage from nothing, "Here you are."

"Thanks," he muttered and put the rat in with rather more effort than it should have taken. As soon as the door closed, Scabbers started gnawing on the nearest bar.

Hermione waved her wand a few more time and Scabbers jumped back with a squeak.

"What was that?" Ron demanded.

"Just a few enchantments to keep him eating his way through," she said and glanced over at Champion who had rolled onto his stomach to watch the rat in his new prison, "and to keep unwanted visitors out."

"Brilliant," he grinned.

Champion growled low, sounding almost smug. At the noise, Scabbers let out a loud cry and buried himself under the litter as if the dog might forget he was there if he were not immediately visible.

"Come on, Scabbers," Ron sighed and lifted the cage. "It's your own fault for biting me. If you'd played nice, I would have let you sleep on the pillow same as always." He shook his head and carried the rat with him up to his dormitory, leaving Hermione and Champion by the fire.

Her own pet looked from the boy to his master and back with a short, gruff bark.

"He never says 'thank you' properly," she informed him. "It's pointless being annoyed about it, but I do appreciate that you care." She scratched the spot just behind his ear, knowing it would set his hind leg and tail in motion as he luxuriated in the attention; she was not disappointed.

Harry stomped into the common room and dropped down beside her, scowling. "Malfoy," he grunted.

"I'm sorry?"

"Stupid, bloody Malfoy is going to have a field day with my passing out on the train," he groaned and raked his fingers through his hair, setting it to standing on end. "I'm sure _someone_ else reacted that badly. Madam Pomfrey wanted me to stay overnight! Can you imagine what Malfoy would have done with that?"

"It was for your own good, Harry," she said. "It's nothing to do with Malfoy."

He glared at her.

"But, he is a git," she agreed.

"Thank you," Harry said with only a hint of sarcasm. "Can I have Champion bite him?" At the request, the dog jumped up and leapt toward the door, signalling his eagerness to be of assistance. Harry stared at him, laughing. "Good boy! You have the best pet ever, Hermione!"

"That is not funny. He could get into serious trouble if he actually bit someone. _I _could get into serious trouble. There is an entire chapter in _Hogwarts: A History _dedicated to the reason why certain pets are allowed and others aren't," replied the girl gravely. "Do you know how many students were attacked by dogs before they were banned? Do you know the risk Dumbledore took allowing me to keep him?"

"Calm down, Hermione. I was only kidding. I don't need anyone's pet to attack Malfoy when I can beat him on the Quidditch pitch. Public humiliation is way more fun," he grinned.

She clicked her tongue, "You can be so horrible sometimes."

He just shrugged and gave Champion a sound pat on the rump. "Thanks for the offer, boy."

The dog barked and wagged his tail so wildly, he knocked Hermione's books from her lap. At her cry of dismay he whimpered what might pass for an apology and retrieved the books one by one, returning them to her lap.

"Do tell us how you've managed to train him to do that, Hermione," George said, leaning over the back of the couch.

"Been trying for ages to teach Ronniekins to clean up after himself, but with no luck," his twin said with a sad shake of his hand. "Please tell us it involves considerable amounts of beating."

"I would never!" Hermione declared. "I've never hit him once, have I, Champion?"

The dog barked his reply.

"You are brilliant," Lee Jordan told the dog with a grin.

"He's just a dog. It's not as if he actually understands you," the girl sighed, though in truth she had thought the same thing several times since meeting Champion. He was like no other dog she had ever encountered, certainly nothing like her only dog, Mr Waggles, who listened to no one and did what he pleased until he was removed from their presence when he failed to respond to her command to 'stop' and ran under the milkman's van. Unlike most animals which she found to be cute but not too bright, Champion appeared to be properly clever, actively participating in conversations as a human might. She shook her head.

She was anthropomorphising again and he was still just a dog.

oOo

"HERMIONE!"

The girl shot up in bed, startled awake by someone shouting her name. She looked around the room, but saw no one. Still she heard her name shouted again.

"What?"

"HERMIONE! COME GET YOUR BLOODY DOG!"

It was Ron, she realised as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stumbled from her bed, through the open door and down the stairs. She met Ron at the base of the stairs. He was holding Champion by his ears and glaring daggers at the beast.

"What are you doing to him?" she demanded.

"I am keeping him from killing my rat, that's what I'm bloody doing," he spat. "Caught him trying to chew through the cage, I did!"

"Why on earth would he be doing that, Ron?" she asked.

"How the hell should I know?"

She swatted his hands away. "Go upstairs, Champion. Scabbers has enough problems without you trying to play with him."

"Play with him?" Ron repeated, horrified. "Play with him? He was bloody well trying to eat him!"

"Oh, go back to bed, Ron," she yawned and shooed her dog up the stairs and into her room. "Go to sleep, Champion. Scabbers isn't going anywhere, I promise."

He lay down on the floor with a sharp exhale that sounded oddly like a sullen sigh.

"Don't be like that," she said sleepily and patted the bed. "Come on, the floor is cold."

It took a long minute during which he paced the floor and a grumpy bark before he finally climbed onto the bed with her, his weight making the antique springs cry out in protest as he shifted to find a comfortable position around her feet. Considering his size, Hermione was always amazed that he managed to keep to so small an area of the bed. Even Lavender's miniscule cat was not so considerate; forcing the girl so far to the edge of her own bed that she often fell out in the night.

Hermione anticipated waking to find a wet nose in her ear and Champion's hind legs hanging off the bed, but he was precisely where he always was: at her feet. She stretched and yawned, scratching his head to wake him.

"Come one, sleepyhead, we have to take you for a walk," she said. He growled and tucked his head further under his paw. "No, I will not leave you up here all alone all day without at least taking you for a walk. Now get up!"

She stood and started throwing her pyjamas onto the bed beside him to signal that she meant business. Like the gentleman she had come to expect, he hid his eyes as she dressed in her uniform and robes. "I'm ready."

At her signal, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, checking to make sure she really was decent before he turned his whole head to look at her properly. She still found this behaviour very odd for a dog which should have no concept of what clothes or privacy or decency were, and she considered seeing what his reaction might be if she lied about being ready one morning. Given how sentient his actions made him seem, she found that idea to be highly embarrassing and quickly decided against actually trying.

She attached the lead to his harness and lead him from the tower, through the corridors and out to the grass, wishing there was a shorter route since she would have to take him back that long and tiring way to put him back in Gryffindor Tower.

"Mornin', Hermione!" Hagrid called across the grass, his eyes bright and beard huge.

"Good morning," she said. "Congratulations!"

He blushed. "Great man, Dumbledore. Oh, but look at this!" He reached out and stroked Champion's fur. "So this is your special pet, then."

"This is Champion. Is there any chance I can leave him out here during the day? It doesn't seem right to leave him locked in the tower while I'm in class," she fretted and scratched behind the dog's ear. For once, his tail did not wag at the attention.

"I don' see why not," Hagrid said slowly. "Got plenty o' room round the pum'kin patch."

Champion barked disapprovingly and strained against the lead as Hermione walked toward Hagrid's hut and massive garden. "Stop that," she chided. "Don't you want some fresh air and exercise?"

The dog growled.

"'Course, 'e does!" Hagrid replied, completely oblivious to the dog's reaction. "Look at 'im! 'E's too skinny. Dog like 'at ought ta be as big as a hippogriff!" Oddly, he bit his lip and blushed. "Shouldn't 'a said tha'," he muttered. He quickly took the lead from Hermione's hands and pulled the dog effortlessly into the garden. "We'll keep 'im in here for today an' see how 'e gets on."

Champion immediately mounted his protest, barking and whining as he jerked fruitlessly against his restraints.

"Lively thing, i'n't 'e?"

"Very," Hermione agreed and could not help feeling guilty about leaving her father's saviour in a place he obviously did not want to be. Still, she knew he was not as healthy as he could be, that his muscles needed exercise and his lungs needed clean air. Certain she was doing the right thing, she turned and walked with Hagrid up the lawn to the Great Hall.

* * *

A/N: In my attempts to keep from doing too many Rowling rewrites, I tend to skip over large chunks of time. This is bad because it means I summarize a great deal and this story would end up being terribly short. And where's the fun in that?


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